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Oct. 30th, 2007 | 10:26 am
mood: lonelylonely

The summer had inhaled
And held its breath too long.
The winter looked the same,
As if it had never gone,
And through an open window,
Where no curtain hung,
I saw you, I saw you,
Coming back to me.

One begins to read between
The pages of a look.
The sound of sleepy music,
And suddenly, you're hooked.
I saw you, I saw you,
Coming back to me.

You came to stay and live my way,
Scatter my love like leaves in the wind.
You always say that you won't go away,
But I know what it always has been,
It always has been.

A transparent dream
Beneath an occasional sigh...
Most of the time,
I just let it go by.
Now I wish it hadn't begun.
I saw you, I saw you,
Coming back to me.

Strolling the hill,
Overlooking the shore,
I realize I've been here before.
The shadow in the mist
Could have been anyone--
I saw you, I saw you,
Coming back to me.

Small things like reasons
Are put in a jar.
Whatever happened to wishes,
Wished on a star?
Was it just something
That I made up for fun?
I saw you, I saw you,
Coming back to me.

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Oct. 26th, 2007 | 12:15 pm
mood: pissed offpissed off

We can't speak or see each other because we are too attracted to each other and get along too well. FUCKING STUPID.

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It shines like destruction

Oct. 25th, 2007 | 08:43 pm
mood: crazycrazy
music: Rock and roll suicide

Violated survival list #5.

Texted me today...all torn up, again.

Hows the comfortable, although passionless life in Bretwood? Me? Alone, thanks, fighting the city. Glad to hear your getting clarity. Miss me? Is that what this feeling is? Doesn't seem strong enough.

Here's wishing for you a cosmic spear in the gut, a complete and jagged rip in your heart, the overwhelming sadness of spirit. Kinda like the one I got. Kinda like the one you continue to give me. We fucked up and became of God. We united into one.

I don't know what the fuck I'm supposed to do with you...the strength of this feeling that you and I fit, that it seems so obvious, that I vibe you; know when your in close proximity, know when your going to call, know what you're going to say, know what your thinking. I feel you in my mind, in my subconscious, I talk to you when I'm sleeping and I can feel that you hear me. I know your doing it too. I feel you in my skin, in my body, walking around in my thoughts. How can any of this be real? I'm losing my fucking mind. This psychic shit has to stop...

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Survival List

Oct. 15th, 2007 | 08:07 pm
mood: determineddetermined
music: Muse "Apocolypse Please"

1) After work find the gym again,  perform hard-core, muscle tearing work-outs.  Sweat hard. Breathe hard.  Hurt and feel stronger.

2) Go out every Friday and/or Saturday night.  Accept all invitations for dinner, drinks and the like within reason.

3) Make daytime plans for Sunday.
a) work out
b) invite someone over and cook dinner
c) go for hikes

4) Take long baths

5) Keep the cell phone off when out with friends, at work, drinking, when at the club, at the bar, shopping, and especially when home alone.

6) Inform friends of #5 and give them the home number or companion's number.

7) Add false digits and/or symbols into trap person's name to prevent accidental, purposely accidental, habitual, and drunk texting (and god forbid dialing).

8) Rehearse the play, write bullshit, journal, and talk about art, alot.

9) Remove reminder, trapping, heart-wrenching, morbidly consumptive, nostalgic, painful songs from ITunes playlist.

10) Smile.

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Been a long time...

Sep. 13th, 2007 | 09:16 pm
mood: thirstythirsty

What a year. Although not finished, it has already divided itself into beautiful synchronistic chapters. This year I "came home" and am re-establishing a spirituality that was previously too existential to trust. I am of my faith, one might say I'm synonymous with it. I know this because it's always been a nagging whisper that questions every hiding move; it is a source of pain and darkness in way of consequence to ignorant/delusional action, it has always driven me and now that I acknowledge, without forgiveness, its consuming drive I have found my God/One/Voice. I trust and surrender, not to be brought to shore, but to be given the vision of land. I am "older" and there is no return. I am different from the last time that I was "alone", the world is different, the surrender is different. There is no end, no destination, no answer; there is a void of infinite potential, a darkness of things not yet manifest waiting for existence. All things in constant flux...definite is a word of a man looking for conclusion. I am in constant admiration of possibility.

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May. 10th, 2007 | 03:54 pm
mood: contemplativecontemplative

He approached me, smiling. An older man. I'd seen him many times. Knew him in the sense that I knew the other regular faces. His life already spent, the wisdom of hindsight remained. Interesting eyes burned brightly...

"You're like an owl", he said very focused as if he wanted me to know he knew, "the rest of them are like they don't know or see; you, your open. You left New Hampshire, at no time were you like this (holds hands close to the sides of his face to indicate blinders) you know you have look around. Owls, they can turn their head, look behind themselves, they see, they watch, no one notices. Us, we have turn and can't care who sees. You've got some tales."

That I do.

"Sometime, me and you, we are going to talk without interruption. The time for long stares of owl sight. You'll tell me what you've seen, my owl, you'll tell me."

He tells me about him and JC, he thanks him everyday. They're tight. JC helps him with the owl sight. "You," he says "got your pen".

I got my pen.

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It' a perfect day...

Apr. 29th, 2007 | 07:55 pm

The words and music of Lou Reed echoed all day...it's a perfect day. The weather was beautiful; wind slightly blowing, the heat not so oppressive that one becomes dibilitated by sweat and the need to retreat to someplace dark and cool. As always things lingered in the background of disparity, and yet even they kept their distance.

Today I was alive and felt every breathe as nourishment. It was a perfect day. All things in their place to be pondered when I chose, and if I chose, to wrestle with their thorns. The chaos of Los Angeles screaming from all directions, on my drive to the theater, only centered me in my own silence. Today I existed in the perfect center - alive, a spectator, witness and leader to the life that surrounds me.

We all go through bouts of uncertainty. The ground shakes and we scramble to find solid footing and landmarks that are recognizable; we hope to be found in our weakness and led to safety. I realized today, as so often happens, that safety is only a state of mind. Today was beautiful and waiting, and I only had to realize it.

I am exactly where I'm supposed to be.

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Going home...

Feb. 19th, 2007 | 11:41 am

What a long road it's been returning to the place that's so familiar...this feeling is like being at last corner before your childhood home comes into view. Anxiously wondering if solace will still be waiting where you left it.

This is the third time that I've been at such a place - God calling me so loudly I can't ignore the voice that rings and reverberates every bone. The hawk is calling me to the feet of the Great Spirit, there is an important task I need to undertake.

Out of chaos comes clarity. Surrender to the wave and it will bring you ashore. Just on the other side of this wave is home.

I am free: pains of longing, eyes still burning from crying, throat sore from wailing, everything purged and clean. On the edge of the void waiting for life to take shape.

Home to heal. Preparing to return on that blue path to God.

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Jun. 14th, 2006 | 01:53 pm


Are you feeling fresh? GOOD! Follow it up with this one:


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Will to Believe

Jun. 10th, 2006 | 12:32 pm

I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be at this very second, moment, in time. Out of all the options I had in how to start my day, I started it through the choices that brought me to get up at the specific moment I got up, to cook and eat breakfast (choosing what to eat which determined how long it would cook) at which point once cooked deciding to listen to music on a specific station instead of whatching TV which then played a very specific song which has followed me for years. The song portends a reality shift and has always sent me spiraling, ready or not, through a new door of awareness/darkness, an "inscrutable embryonic state": it effectively and efficiently closes the door of what has been up to this point, my reality. A coincidence? Absolutely. It continues...I decide to read and open a book I really haven't paid much attention to but for some reason interests me at this specific moment and open to a page titled "THE MORE ACCIDENTAL, THE MORE TRUE", I place an excerpt of what follows the heading below:

"The more accidental, the more true,...The more accidental the phenomenon, the more divine its nature, for the divine is what has not been envisioned, what cannot be deduced from general rules, not irreducible to them. If we pursue this line of thought to its logical conclusion, we may decide that the most useful sources of illunination are not always holy books, revered dogma, and great truths that everyone has heard. They might also be serendipitous anomalies that erupt into the daily routine and break the trance of ordinary awareness. The tiny spark, is the precise measure of the holiness of the world"

Everyday throughout our lives we ask for signs. "Give me a sign", we say, "I need to know I'm on the right path, need to know I'm not alone, need to know, be shown, need to be validated in the cosmic, unviersal sense, just need a sign". And then one day, suddenly, in the smallest, most significantly divine and perfect way, you are given the sign.

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